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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The firelight was fading The shadows grew in size In the distance if you listened You could hear the faintest cries Of coyotes and of timber wolf Signalling the end of day Howling at the growing moon Keeping night spirits at bay The last piece of the sagebrush Was burning to it's core The flames that danced as quicksilver Now, they danced no more The fire, once was blazing It's flames a dangerous height Was now a nest of coal chunks to warm us through the night Four days out and three to go We'd be in two days ahead The scheduled trip with this years herd And we'd be back in our own bed A smaller group of beef this time But, that's the way it goes At least we'd leave the mountains Before the early snows Coffee from the morning meal Was still sitting in the pot Two minutes in the embers And it was steaming hot The first round of watch was up And the coffee was re done The second watch, for wolves and things Needed coffee and a gun Two went down the first night out We heard the wolves, but missed them all They'd been following us for three days now And at night you'd hear them call They signalled that the day was done And that the herd was staying still The darkness was their element It was time for them to kill The fire was near finished The flames were all but smoke but that cup of cowboy coffee put life into this old grey cowpoke If the wolves kept at a distance And just kept howling at the moon We'd lose no more beef tonight And be home two days from noon The fire spit and crackled The night was damp and cold The stars were silent beacons To the wolves so quick and bold We heard them in the distance Howling loud as if to say Will you make it through till morning? Wait until we come to play.....
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